


Turquoise Tinted Hearts

by semoris



Series: TURQUOISE TINTED HEARTS [1]
Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Separate Bands, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, Hook-Up, Implied Prison Sentence, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Local Music Scene, M/M, Older Man/Younger Man, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Recovery, Recreational Drug Use, Safe Sex & Healthy Relationships are HELLA Sexy, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, Trans Male Character, Trans Murdoc Niccals, discussions of mental health
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:48:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27483754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/semoris/pseuds/semoris
Summary: Murdoc & Stuart are in their own separate bands — leading different lives — and, end up stumbling into a surprisingly meaningful relationship, through a series of hook-ups.
Relationships: Murdoc Niccals/Stuart "2D" Pot
Series: TURQUOISE TINTED HEARTS [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2008372
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	Turquoise Tinted Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> Stuart is 23 & Murdoc is 35
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I’ve written this AU to romanticize recovery from addiction & untreated mental illness. I’ve based many of the heavy themes in this off my own experiences as somebody who was a homeless alcoholic at nineteen in an unstable relationship with my boyfriend who I’m now celebrating five years with. 
> 
> Please get help if you’re struggling with trauma and addiction. You deserve better than digging yourself further into that pain. You have problems — that doesn’t make YOU the problem — it just means you need to get help, get clean & fix the problems. People DO love you. You DO deserve to get better when you never deserved the pain you’ve been through. 
> 
> Best of luck to you. Romanticize recovery, not your addiction. Not the pain. You have to walk through hell, sometimes, but it does get better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Cause lately it's been hard  
> They're sellin' me for parts  
> And I don't wanna be modern art  
> But I only got half a heart to give to you
> 
> How can you miss someone you've never seen?  
> Oh, tell me are your eyes brown, blue, or green?  
> And do you like it with sugar and cream?  
> Or do you take it straight, oh, just like me?

The neon signs on the outside of the dusty bar flickered. Murdoc found himself shoved out into the busted parking lot, and he caught himself between the worn parking lines. He set a glare upon the leering barkeep as he stood back up and straightened his jacket. There was a chill in the air. He scowled as he heard his bandmates howling past the door and he cursed the bastards for not following his shameful exit. Afterall, the bassist had shattered a shot glass over a bloke cursing their image. 

The barkeep jabbed a thumb towards the street to add insult to injury. Murdoc hesitated, but fled at the threat of having the cops called on him for the hundredth time in his life. His band wouldn’t leave their afterparty for him, anyways.

This particular part of town was rough, though Murdoc was well familiar with it. There was a convenience store with shattered windows up the street where he could buy a pack of cigarettes cheap. Something for his scuffed nerves. He sighed. The night was still young and he wanted to salvage his good mood; though, all the bars he knew were frequent haunts for his bandmates. The shunned bassist had no interest in running into any of them till morning. It would just end in a brawl. 

He decided to order a ride downtown. 

It had been months since Murdoc had been. 

And, he quickly decided he still hated it. 

The streetlights were clustered. The headlights were bright. The air reeked of overpriced food. There were hoards of drunk college kids screaming outside horridly gentrified bars that played terrible pop music. It was all so nauseating. Murdoc took a weary drag off a cigarette and scanned the map on his phone for a quieter destination. However, his resolve was broken by the grating voice of Ed Sheeran over a nearby speaker. 

He shoved his phone in his pocket with a frustrated groan and took off down the street where the lights became fewer, and the crowds thinned. He walked until he came upon a tiny crowd of haphazardly dressed artsy types who were smoking outside a dimly lit establishment. 

There was a live band playing inside that didn’t sound too bad to the weary man. 

——

Inside, Murdoc sat down at the neon lit bar with a deeply tired sigh. He was perhaps a bit too grough in the way he demanded a beer as the barkeep scowled, though obliged. Murdoc leered and his voice dripped with good humored sarcasm as he offered a small blessing. 

It took four beers before Murdoc relaxed enough to enjoy the atmosphere of the bar. The crowd buzzed quietly in the background as the band played on stage. It was lighter stuff than Murdoc preferred, though the singer was quite good with his gravelly voice. Not to mention, his appearance was striking with his blue hair and brightly colored clothes. The bassist found himself continually catching eyes with him for some odd reason. He tried not to think much of it until he turned back to his beer and felt eyes still on him. 

Murdoc bristled and threw an icy glare over his shoulder. 

Surprisingly, the singer held his gaze through the last few notes of his song. Murdoc felt a tension building that he wasn’t sure he was interested in. Whether a fight or some hook-up, Murdoc would probably destroy the twink. He broke the gaze to order another beer. 

The band announced the end of their set. 

Murdoc wasn’t very surprised when he was approached. 

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before. My name’s Stuart. How’d you like the set? Pretty good, yeah?” 

Murdoc almost rolled his eyes, and considered refusing even a small acknowledgement; though, he did feel a bit humored. It’d been a minute since he was last approached in a bar, so bravely. He could pretty easily get the singer’s hopes up and then scare him off. Just for a bit of fun. 

He threw Stuart a sideways glance as he took a sip of his beer. The singer smiled at him, expectantly. 

“Honestly,” Murdoc drawled, over the lip of his bottle — adding a small hiss behind his words. His smile appeared to grow sharper, as he continued, “Your music would be better without the sodding banjo.” 

Expecting the conversation ended before it even began, Murdoc turned away from the singer. He opted to focus on a nearby television where a football game had been turned on. He was surprised when he heard bubbling laughter, and the squeak of the barseat beside him being filled. He turned to look at the other, disgruntled, and in disbelief of the blue haired singer laughing at being insulted. 

Stuart was smiling in an irritatingly attractive manner, as the bartender handed him a cocktail about as neon blue as his hair. He took a sip of the drink, and continued with surprisingly good humor. “Critics have still got names.” 

There was a stubborn moment where Murdoc looked on in silence at the young man. His irritation likely morphed his strong features into something of a snarl. He considered just taking his beer and leaving, for a moment. Then, he considered helping Stuart upgrade his tooth gap when the singer smiled smugly, noticing his silence. 

“Murdoc, but that’s not an invitation,” He said, an irritated tone edging into his voice. 

Stuart appeared to nod, and focus his attention on another of the bar screens. It struck Murdoc as odd. He wasn’t used to men seeming to take his demeanor well, and his interest certainly peaked. Stuart seemed to take notice of Murdoc’s gaze, because their eyes caught for a moment, and the younger gave a teasing smirk. “S’not the right response?” 

The older quickly withdrew his gaze, though a solid blush began to dust his cheeks. He mumbled over the lip of his beer bottle, “Not often blokes actually back off easy.” 

“Bad on them, innit?” Stuart mused, looking thoughtfully back at the television. Murdoc continued to find his gaze drawn back to the way Stuart’s hair fell across his thin features. Closer up, he could now see that the singer wore black scleral lenses under his gaudy sunglasses. 

Murdoc nodded, and loosened his posture — the tension slowly leaving his body. He hesitantly added, “You’ve got a nice voice. Just not what I’d listen to, usually.”

Stuart beamed, at that. “See, knew you’d be a nice guy.” 

The older rolled his eyes. He slumped in his seat, but found himself leaning towards Stuart. The idea of having company — specifically, the singer — for the night, suddenly felt much more comfortable. 

The shift was, surprisingly, noticed. Stuart loosely brushed his hand across Murdoc’s lower back. The man leered as Stuart leaned in a bit closer, and muttered, “Can I give you an invitation?” 

“Well, unfortunately, we can’t go to my place,” Murdoc drawled. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go with Stuart. He was just so stricken with disbelief that such a seemingly well-rounded young man was trying so hard to take him home. He wouldn’t dare tell the other he lived with four other men at his age, so he lied, poorly. “My wife would be awful pissed if I bought a sodding twink home..” 

He assumed Stuart lived with his parents, or had his own roommates. He felt a flush of surprise, and embarrassment, when Stuart offered, “Well, then, we can go to my place! There’s nobody there t’get mad at us. 

Murdoc stood up. Stuart took his hand and grinned as they walked out of the bar onto the street. The singer was almost skipping and he bore a cheshire grin as if he were so proud of his ragged, old catch. 

Murdoc felt he’d soon be disappointed.

As Stuart led the way, he asked, “I’m doubting you really have a wife, so are you homeless, or something?” 

The bassist felt his face heat up and he almost stopped in his tracks. He knew he looked rough, but he at least had thought he’d cleaned up well since the days he had been. He thought to lie, or to curse the other, but he just sighed as he received a look of pure interest. He felt a weird sincerity behind the other’s smile. 

Murdoc gave a dry laugh to cover his embarrassment. He stuttered, as he spilled out, “I had been since I was fifteen, but not anymore. I got out of prison a few years back and found a couple mates to live with through the punk scene. I’m also a musician, actually, I haven’t mentioned.” 

“Do you play bass?” Stuart asked, surprisingly. Murdoc had expected him to be far more concerned about him being a fucking felon, but apparently not. 

“Yes.” 

“Okay, that makes sense.”

“What the fuck is that suppose to mean?” 

Stuart grinned. 

Murdoc gave him a perplexed look as the singer stopped outside a music shop, and dug his keys out. He hesitated at the mouth of the alleyway where Stuart had bounced up to a lonely side-door. 

“Welcome to Norms! I’m the manager during the day, but I live,” He paused as he unlocked and pushed the door open. “In the upstairs flat!” 

The bassist sighed as he stepped into the alley and waited in the stairwell for the other. 

“You’re really not going to ask about prison?”

“If you want to tell me, I’m sure you will!” Stuart said.

Murdoc was perplexed, but he felt he owed the other an explanation. “I sold drugs to the wrong person. It was nothing violent — spent two years, inside, for it, though,” 

The singer nodded in understanding as they climbed up the stairs. He unlocked a lone door and held it open for Murdoc who peered into the darkness. 

For a second, he wondered if he was about to get murdered. 

He was far past his time, anyways. 

The living room was incredibly cozy. There was an ugly yellow couch next to the window, and a surprising absence of a television. The light flickered on to expose a wildly impressive amount of art decorating the walls. There were even a few plants hanging on for dear life. It smelt strongly of incense and Murdoc picked up on the scent of weed as well. He suddenly understood his companion. He laughed.

“How d’you like it?” Stuart asked, as he shut the door and threw his keys into a small bowl on the coffee table. 

Murdoc took his jacket off and set it on the couch. He felt his nerves rising again as he felt Stuart giving him a look over. “I guess…” Murdoc paused, as he struggled. “Now is a bad time to mention I don’t have a dick.” 

The singer paused for a heavy moment, but then he did something that surprised Murdoc. He laughed. 

“Well, that’s a good surprise. S’not a problem, love.” 

Murdoc felt the fear melt out of his body. He sat down on the couch as Stuart opened up a china cupboard, and pulled out a pipe which he held, gingerly. “Do you still smoke?” He asked, with a small smile. He drew a lighter which he used to light the bowl and exhaled a cloud of smoke. 

“I sold cocaine,” Murdoc said, and held out his hand when he was offered the pipe. Stuart lit the bowl for him. 

They passed the pipe back and forth for a few hours. They laughed over humorous stories from each other’s lives, and listened intently to each other’s pains. Murdoc learned that Stuart had been kicked out and had to drop out of college, at twenty, for coming out as bi. He smiled as Stuart went on to recount how he lived with friends and found a job at the music shop. He’d practically been adopted by the owner. He became manager a year ago and had been offered the apartment upstairs at a reduced price. He had gotten back to taking a few classes with a focus in business. He explained that Norm wanted to hand the shop over to him, eventually, as he had no other children.

Murdoc found it all very sweet, and very admirable. 

Come early morning, the two had become tangled up on the couch. A soft blanket had been pulled from the back to keep them warm, and Stuart had made them tea to drink. They’d silently cuddled for quite awhile. The singer had found it all too tempting to pet Murdoc’s hair when his head was rested on his chest. The bassist had gotten lost in his thoughts as the other played with his hair. He was used to being picked up, and dumped back out onto the streets in an hour. This was obviously not that sort of hook-up, and he was genuinely so glad. He felt a little bewildered, but he was mostly wildly horny. Stuart took notice of his blush. 

“Are you still nervous?” He asked. 

Murdoc almost laughed. He could blush over his feelings, but he wasn’t shy when it came to sex. “Quite frankly, I’m thinking of you naked.”

Stuart laughed. It was such a pleasant, light sound. His large hands ran down Murdoc’s back where they settled on his ass. They took a firm grip for a moment, then massaged the ragged denim. Murdoc, quite embarrassingly, moaned. He kissed the younger man quite fiercely. 

Ever goofy and smug, Stuart pulled away to say. “I don’t mind that very much. I’ve been thinking of you too.” 

Murdoc nearly bit him. “Shut up.”

Stuart blushed. 

——

Stuart’s bed was irritatingly comfortable. The blankets were soft and the mattress must have been down. Murdoc felt the give under his knees as he hovered over Stuart’s smiling face. It had been awhile since Murdoc had last gotten laid and his partner’s enthusiasm had certainly turned into a confidence boost. Murdoc leered down at him as he rocked his hips in slow circles. He bumped his mound against the singer’s lips almost playfully, and was rewarded with a little whine that made him laugh. 

Murdoc reached down and brushed his fingers over his happy trail. His fingers spread his lips, so that Stuart could run his tongue over his dick. He sealed his lips around it. The bassist nearly melted as Stuart pulled him in, gently, and he rolled his hips against him. Something like a purr bubbled out of him. 

It was almost embarrassing how the singer looked up at him with such adoration. Stuart thought the bassist looked cute with his tongue out like that, though. 

He slid his lips over Murdoc’s dick a few times before firmly sucking on him. Stuart sighed out his nose and closed his eyes. His hands found a hold on Murdoc’s ass where they pressed his hips closer. 

“Oh, fuck me,” Murdoc moaned. Amusingly, his knees slid a bit farther apart across the sheets which almost made him truly sit on Stuart’s face. Not that he would have minded. 

The singer curled his tongue over the dick in his mouth.

Murdoc rocked into his mouth a bit harsher. He was hissing through his teeth as he twitched through a brief orgasm. He groaned. Stuart, almost mercilessly, let go of his throbbing dick in favor of kissing his thighs. His fingers brushed over his legs and soothed the mess of hairs. Murdoc marveled at the intensity that bled through his dark eyes. 

——

Murdoc laid on his back against the plush sheets. Stuart had a hilariously determined look on his face as he slid his long fingers inside the bassist. 

“It’s been awhile,” Stuart explained. 

“Good thing you’re a pianist.”

Stuart looked at him with an amused smile. The reference to his earlier comment was not missed. He curled his digits in the wet heat with a bit of confidence restored. 

Murdoc arched and hissed out some gentle encouragements that Stuart breathlessly ate up. Their faces got close as he found a particular spot that had the older man clenching around his fingers. Murdoc gripped onto his shirt with surprising force and pulled him in for a kiss. Stuart bounced his palm against his mound and felt wetness drip onto his sheets as Murdoc growled through another orgasm. 

“I think I’m ready, love,” Murdoc leered. 

Stuart smiled as he pulled away to fish a condom from his bedside table. He seemed a bit surprised when Murdoc held out a hand for the rubber; though, he handed it over without question. Stuart looked like he was about to pass out when the bassist rolled it onto his dick with deft hands. Their gazes held as Stuart positioned himself. 

“Ready, love?” Stuart’s voice cracked. 

Murdoc nodded, almost casually. 

He pressed the tip of his cock against Murdoc’s entrance and slowly pushed his length inside. The older reached out for a hold on his shirt again. A moan escaped him as Stuart settled his bony hips against him. They rocked their hips against one another. 

“Tha’s so good,” Stuart almost slurred. His hands pet his dark sides and massaged the scars that spanned his chest. 

Murdoc seemed to bristle as he grew impatient with the softness. Quite frankly, he wanted the twink to destroy him. 

He growled as he let go of his shirt and settled back into the sheets. His legs found purchase against his shoulders. 

“Fuck me, you idiot.” 

Stuart smiled, adoringly. 

—–—

Soft morning light filtered through the window. The various translucent fabrics hung over the top caused the room to dance with various shades. A few windchimes were hung from the ceiling which caused speckles of light to shimmer across the bed sheets. Murdoc had been surprised to wake up to such a calm environment. He was used to waking up to his bandmates baying over their morning beers. Stuart’s plush bed was a major improvement to his lumpy mattress on the floor back home. Murdoc rubbed his stubble against the singer’s chest and sighed as long fingers ran through his tangled hair. “Good morning, love.” 

It felt all too romantic. Murdoc bristled, slightly, but relaxed himself. He nipped at the other’s fingers as he said a blunt, “Morning.” 

Stuart gently flicked his nose which was a sure surprise. “S’too early! We haven’ had breakfast, yet! I was thinking this lil’ cafe down the street. S’lovely in there and their scones are killer.” 

Murdoc tuned out the rambling as he became sure he’d been enthralled. Stuart had to be some odd creature. In his thirty years, Murdoc never spent the night with a hook-up, yet alone had he ever been invited to breakfast by one. He stared into the younger’s gleeful brown eyes with a haze of disbelief. Stuart faltered for a moment. 

“Do you have to go?” 

Murdoc shook his head. “You’re just odd.” 

Stuart seemed to ponder that, for a moment. 

“Inna good way?” 

“It’s not unpleasant.” 

The singer smiled, and surprisingly wrapped his arms around the older. He kissed him. Murdoc felt like he was melting.

“Have they got beer at this little cafe?” 

Stuart laughed.

**Author's Note:**

> Get hooked on the porn & the feels, cause this is gonna hurt.


End file.
